


Would a Brother Kiss You Like That?

by LME



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Brotherhood Without Banners - Freeform, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-09-14 14:09:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9185101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LME/pseuds/LME
Summary: Based on the HBO “I can be your family” scene in Season 3.  Arya and Gendry are with the Brotherhood Without Banners.  Arya reacts when Gendry tells her that he will not accompany her to Riverrun, but will instead join the Brotherhood.  She is obviously not pleased.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady3jane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady3jane/gifts).



> I am a pleasantly obsessed Gendrya shipper. I dislike the soulless killer that HBO has turned Arya into during the last two seasons, but prefer the amazing chemistry between Arya and Gendry that was explored earlier. GRRM alluded to a future possible relationship between Gendry and Arya in “The Peach” & “Acorn Hall” chapters, and HBO suggests the same in seasons 2 & 3, especially in the classic “I can be your family” scene, which is the closest “GoT” comes to a Disney fairy tale. Alas, “GoT” is the polar opposite of Disney, and after tempting us with that sweet scene, the writers move on as if it never happened. I would like to imagine what could have followed those heartfelt confessions in the cave, and have written my own version of that fateful conversation. This AU refers back to both GRRM’s canon and the HBO TV series, however it considers that Arya spent almost two years total traveling with Gendry . At the time of this story, Arya is 14 – 15, and Gendry is 18 – 19. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> These characters belong to GRRM, and I am so appreciative that he has created them.

“Have you lost your mind?! When the Lannisters find this place, they won’t spare the smith!” Arya stormed at Gendry. 

She was planning to be reunited with her remaining family at Riverrun, and assumed that Gendry would be by her side where he had been these past two years. Instead, the last of her Kingsroad companions announced that he intended to join the Brotherhood Without Banners. 

Her angry words reverberated around the quiet cave, and her freshly washed face and hair shone in the soft torchlight. Arya was often negligent about her grooming, but the Brotherhood, with half an eye on a ransom or fat reward for returning her, insisted that she looked somewhat like a Lady. At least they didn’t try to force her into a dress, but accepted her boyish breeches, once they had been cleaned. They realized that someone would get hurt if they tried to change her style. Lem Lemoncloak’s broken nose was testament to her fury.

The couple were alone in the cave, and took full advantage of the privacy it afforded. Arya was frustrated and angry. _Seven hells!_ she thought, _Why do all the men in my life leave me?! First Jon deserted me for ‘duty’. Then Micah, Father, Syrio, and Yoren all left me, but they really didn’t have much say in the matter. Jaqen went away too, but he wanted to take me with him. Mayhaps it would have been an adventure if I went to Braavos, but the way he looked at me made me feel weird. Even Tywin left me behind. Although I hated him, I thought he liked me, and I resented being abandoned by him. Hot Pie left me, too. I didn’t have much use for him, but he was still part of my pack. Now Gendry, the last of my pack, is leaving me! I didn’t think the stupid bull was capable of independent thought, but I guess he doesn’t care about me anymore, either. Ooh, these stupid men are so irritating!_

Exasperated, Gendry rolled his eyes as he stared at her. _Seven hells, she’s scolding me again! Why does this fiery child-woman always think that she can plan my life? I’m almost a man grown, and I can make my own decisions!_

Her scolding lead him to realize several years ago that Flea Bottom bastard boy “Arry” was actually a girl. This occurred early during their travels up the Kingsroad with the Watch. Arry was shouting about something, probably that “he” didn’t need Gendry’s protection, with his hands on his hips. And Gendry realized that the boy actually had hips! Hips that flowed into shapely thighs and a small, but perfectly round arse that he had found himself watching without realizing why. There was more proof. He noticed then that Arry’s tunic did not lie flat on her chest, that she was developing a bosom. The features of her face, even dirty with mud and under a bad haircut, were too refined, and her smooth skin lacked even a wisp of facial hair. And although she handled her little sword skillfully, the fingers of her hands were long and delicate, definitely not masculine. It thrilled him to know that he was travelling with a pretty girl, but at that time he didn’t know how he would reveal that he knew her secret.

Gendry had had his suspicions soon after meeting her. Arry claimed to be a Flea Bottom gutter rat, but her accent was all wrong. Her language exposed her education, and she talked confidently like someone used to giving orders, and being taken seriously when she spoke. 

He knew she had feelings for him. In Harrenhal, she would often visit him at the forge, quietly watching him from under lowered lashes as he shaped swords and armor, shirtless and bare-chested in the heat. Once, between hammer strokes, Gendry heard her mutter quietly to herself, ‘He’s so strong’. He also noticed that when they visited inns, Arya’s eyes would narrow and she would scowl when serving wenches would try to get his attention. It was obvious that she was jealous, but she would never, never admit this fact if confronted. Jealousy goes both ways, though. Long ago, on the Kingsroad, he realized that his feelings for her ran far deeper than just friendship when she angrily knocked him down and stormed away after denying that she was a girl and a Lady. And he felt jealousy when she gave Ned Dane and Anguy attention. He had no right to feel that way, but he did anyway.

Arya could not accept that he wanted to go his own way. “You don’t have to do this.” 

_She just doesn’t understand._ Gendry thought, and told her, “I want to, they need good men,” confident that he had found his place in the world.

The little wolf was persistent. “Robb needs good men.”

But Gendry did not want to be her brother’s servant. He angrily described how he felt serving men in the past, often with his life in danger, and summed it all up. “I’m done serving.”

“You just said that you would be serving Lord Beric.” As usual, Arya wouldn’t give up, but challenged his decision.

“He may be their leader, but they chose him,” he replied, having made up his mind.  
Gendry tried to explain. “These men are brothers. They are family.” She turned away with slumped shoulder, obviously discouraged. He considered her attitude, _How can she understand me, with her four brothers, big sister, loving parents, and countless servants?_

Staring at her back, he simply added, “I never had a family.” 

She turned around and gazed at him imploringly, “I can be your family.” Gendry froze. He heard the words, but the expression on her face and her tone of voice implied that she was really saying “I love you”. He was perplexed, not sure if it was a brotherly love she felt for him or something more. But if it were something more, there could never be anything special between them, he despaired. He was a Flea Bottom bastard, and she was a Highborn, in fact a princess, as he had recently learned, for fuck’s sake! Reluctantly, Gendry knew he had to face reality. He bowed his head submissively, “You wouldn’t be my family; you would be milady.” She looked angry and despondent, and turned sharply, ready to leave in a huff.

Gendry saw that his brave warrior girl was hurt and vulnerable, and he couldn’t stand it. He didn’t want her to go, and firmly said, “Arya, come here!”

She turned around, looked at him quizzically, and slowly came towards him. They stared intensely at each other. Gendry was seated, so her grey eyes were almost level with his blue ones. Neither could speak, but neither wanted to part. 

A lock of Arya’s unruly hair had fallen over her open face, and Gendry gently reached over and placed it behind her ear, brushing her cheek as he did so. Her eyes closed briefly and she seemed to sigh, leaning closer to him. His hands were instantly on her torso, moving on their own volition, the heels of his palms pressing against the sides of her small, soft breasts. For years, he had been curious about what was underneath her tunic, and he was dying to explore. But there was too much on his mind, and couldn’t let himself get distracted. _Focus, focus,_ he told himself, as he slowly moved his face closer. 

Gendry pressed his mouth to hers, and she pushed back, curious about the feeling of his lips on hers. He gently bit her lower lip, like she often did when thoughtful or concerned, a sight that he loved. Consciously or not, Arya’s mouth opened slightly in invitation, and he tentatively slid his tongue inside. She gasped quietly, but did not pull away. He became bolder, and explored more, shifting deeper into her mouth. Arya copied his actions, and their tongues met, dancing together, increasing in intimacy. To his embarrassment, he started to become aroused, and he hoped that she would not notice and draw back from his embrace. 

Arya was surprised by his intensity. He kissed her like a drowning man, desperate for air. She sensed that Gendry needed and valued her. His passion for her was a new experience and made her feel self-conscious and flattered at the same time. Gendry had been a fixture in her life for several years and she had begun to take him for granted. She never imagined what his lips and touch could do to her, and she wanted more. 

Casting all modesty aside, she moved her hands from his shoulders into his hair, pressing her face and body closer to his. She knew that Gendry could feel her breasts tight against his chest, and she didn’t care. It felt so good! Arya had always sneered when Sansa and Jayne went on and on about kissing handsome knights, and speculating at tourneys which ones might be good kissers. Mayhaps they were not as stupid as she had thought. 

Kissing Gendry was more fun than anything she could think of at the moment. Her body felt like it was on fire. She could feel parts of her brain shutting down as she focused on his kiss. Her worries, tactics and strategy, Water Dancer defensive awareness, all faded as she became consumed by one thing - Gendry. He groaned quietly, but she knew he was not in pain. Arya moaned softly, and in response he almost cupped her breasts, hesitated, and instead moved his hands to her back and held her tighter, if that was possible. Arya wondered, _What was that all about? It might have been nice. I’ll have to ask him later._

Wrapped in his sleeping furs at night, lying next to her, Gendry frequently imagined holding and kissing her, just as he was doing now. He was thrilled that she seemed to be enjoying the experience as much as he was, and he was tempted to explore more with his hands. When he had first met her, she was a skinny child, but she had changed into an alluring young woman, and his attraction for her had grown. _I wish this could last forever,_ he thought, and then realized, _Arya tastes like sugar._ He knew that his little she-wolf, raised in luxury, craved sweets, and always managed to find some, be it the rare piece of cake, an under-ripe apple, or some wild berries. 

Arya was enjoying the kiss, and had the urge to slide her hands underneath his tunic, touching that broad chest she often admired. _Gendry tastes like smoke,_ she observed. He spent so much time in a forge that the scent permeated his whole body, and she had grown to love the familiar smell. She noticed that his mustache felt soft and smooth against her face, but where he shaved, his scruffy beard felt as rough as one of the metal files in the smithy. _That’s going to leave a mark,_ Arya thought, embarrassed. 

Finally they drew apart, mainly with the need to breathe. Both were panting, smiling softly at each other with shining eyes. Arya was excited by her first kiss. She touched her lips to retain the feeling. It thrilled her like riding at a full gallop, or the time that she bested Syrio while sparring. She met his eyes and couldn’t help but start blushing, thinking about what they had just done. 

He was content, feeling almost as stupid and thickheaded as she often suggested he was. Gendry was still holding her gently. She felt comfortable in his arms. He didn’t want to let her go and she made no move to pull away.

Gendry looked at her intently, “Tell me truly, Arya, would a brother kiss you like that? You say we can be family, but I can’t think of you as a sister. Where does that leave us? I’m a lowborn bastard and your family wouldn’t want me near you.” 

“I know now that my feelings for you are different than the feelings I have for my brothers, but I’m not sure I understand what that means”, Arya replied thoughtfully, “I feel comfortable with you touching me, and I don’t want you to leave me. Don’t worry about what Robb and Mother will say when I insist that they accept you. No one in my family has ever won an argument with me, and I always get what I want.” 

_Mayhaps Father’s ‘little princess’ knows what she is talking about._ Gendry considered, as he stroked her back. She certainly did seem to have some power over men. He remembered how, back in Harrenhal, the smallfolk talked about Lord Tywin’s bold, sharp-tongued little cupbearer and messenger. They were amazed how the dour soldier treated her more like a grandchild than a servant, and tolerated her unusual behavior. Arya might have been the only person in the whole castle that was not afraid of the formidable Lord. 

Arya pondered out loud, “If Lord Beric makes you ‘Ser Gendry’, I can introduce you to Robb and Mother as my sworn shield.” She leaned back, looking into his face, and added impishly, “That way we can still spend all our time together and no one will ask questions. We can spar whenever we like, because you need to improve your swordsmanship.” 

She continued, her mind still concentrating on their future, “Gendry, your past may be less of a mystery than you suspect. Remember after we left King’s Landing, how we wondered why those Goldcloaks were looking for you, not me? And before that, Lord Arryn and Father visited you in Flea Bottom. I think Thoros knows something. I have often seen him staring at you, sometimes then looking at me, and then back at you again. I’m going to pester him until he tells me what is on his mind.” 

Gendry was confident that the clever she-wolf could solve the dilemma. She was a determined girl and between the two of them, she had three quarters of the brain power.  


“Now come here,” Arya said with a mischievous smirk, pulling on his tunic and drawing him closer, “I want another of your ‘non-brotherly’ kisses”.  


“As milady commands,” he grinned, only too happy to oblige.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers, thank you for your interest. I hope you enjoy this new chapter.

Arya should have known that she would not be taken to Riverrun soon. The Brotherhood were lax about schedules and often got distracted. Lord Beric got word of a nearby Lannister raiding party and took some men to investigate. She didn’t mind, though. She wanted to think about the new feelings she had for Gendry. He made her feel beautiful and appreciated. She was happier, and realized that she liked being held and kissed by him. It felt natural, and so grown-up! 

The change in their relationship did not go unnoticed by the Brotherhood. At the breakfast table the next morning, Lem Lemoncloak pointed his knife at Arya’s face and said, “Lady Wolf, you have scratches on your chin. Did you fall out of a tree, or is it from something else?” 

Both Arya and Gendry immediately blushed a deep shade of red, but said nothing. Gendry thought that this was strange, because Arya was usually quick with a jape, or retort, or sometimes just stuck out her tongue. For the first time ever, she was absolutely silent. Suddenly, Lem leaned over and smacked Gendry hard on the side of his head. “I warned you about acting inappropriately, boy!” 

At that, Arya spoke up sharply, “Leave him alone!” 

Lem looked startled, “What?!” 

Arya replied loudly, “He’s mine to abuse, and no one else’s”. 

Tom Sevenstrings smirked, “Looks like you have a new boss, Bull.” 

Gendry mumbled between mouthfuls of ham, “That’s nothing new, she’s being bossing me around since I first met her. I’m used to it.” 

Arya just smiled.

Even though they never seemed to leave for Riverrun, Arya was not bored. She had started sparring with Thoros of Myr. Thoros had fought with King Robert and her father against the Targaryens, and she felt a connection to him. Thoros helped her continue Syrio’s lessons. She could practice how to counter Thoros’ Westerosi style of swordplay with her Braavosi Water Dancing. The blunted shortsword that Thoros provided was heavier than Needle, but Arya remembered Syrio saying that a heavy practice sword makes you stronger. Thoros humored her, and found the exercise interesting, too. He commented that though she was small, her quickness and intelligence were turning her into a formidable swordfighter. Arya felt proud listening to his praise and worked even harder.

She also continued another important lesson from Syrio, really _seeing_ her surroundings. She watched people closely as he had taught her, and noticed that Gendry’s eyes were often on her when she was nearby, and when she smiled at him, his face brightened instantly, and he looked happy. She noticed that other men in the Brotherhood also paid attention to her and responded to her smile.

Arya remembered Cersei telling Sansa, “A woman’s beauty can be a weapon,” and “A man become stupid when a woman flirts with him.” Arya decided to test this new weapon in her arsenal. She saw Anguy watching her as she practiced her archery, and finally he spoke up with a smirk, “You are not as good as you think you are.” 

Arya batted her eyelashes at him, and pushed her chest out a little, “Will you show me?” 

Anguy’s face broke into big smile, “Of course, little lady,” he replied and started giving her advice, demonstrating his skill with a bow. 

Arya thought, _Cersei was right. Men can be easy to manipulate. I wish I could tell Syrio about this, he would find it interesting. Hmm. I wonder how Syrio would have responded to flirting._

Thoros had been watching her too, and when her lesson with Anguy was done, he went to speak to her. “Lady Arya, you need to be careful - men can be dangerous if you flirt.”

“I’m not a Lady,” she replied automatically. 

“Then you are even in more danger, they won’t respect you at all if you are not.” Arya was not quite sure what Thoros meant by that.

Thoros remembered Lyanna Stark. She was better on horseback than any man, and skillful with sword and lance. It was rumored that she even competed in a tourney as a mystery knight, and yet when she dressed for a feast every other woman was jealous of her beauty. Thoros recalled haughty lords and knights, shoving each other like green boys, japing with her just to see her favor them with a smile. He recounted this to Arya and said, “You will look exactly like your Aunt Lyanna in a few years, and you will need to use your power wisely.”

Arya decided to use the opportunity to question him. “Thoros, why do you look so intently at Gendry? What does it mean?”

Thoros replied, “Haven’t you wondered why the Goldcloaks were after him? I was a close friend of King Robert Baratheon, and I fought by his side during the rebellion. Gendry exactly resembles a younger version of Robert. I am convinced that Gendry is his bastard son. Somehow the Lannisters knew this also and wanted to kill him. There are few Baratheons left, so he could become the Lord of Storms End. Imagine that!”

“Do you think he’d want that?” she replied, thinking how happy he was in the forge, hammer in hand. 

“If he’s anything like his father he would be a good leader, even if he is a reluctant one. The lords that crave power are the worst leaders. A man who feels the weight of his responsibility makes a wise and careful ruler.”

“Gendry has no motivation to be a lord. He dislikes the very idea.”

“Of course he has motivation.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“If he were a lord, he could ask for your hand in marriage.” 

“You think he wants that?” 

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you, of course he wants that.”

Arya did not know what to say, and remained silent, brooding about Thoros’ words.

Thoros was not finished speculating, “Your father and your dancing master trained you well. You would be a good match for a legitimized son of King Robert. With his serious nature and empathy for the smallfolk, and your clever mind, the two of you would work well together.” 

This was too much to take in at once. She needed to do some serious thinking. And most importantly, she had to tell Gendry what Thoros thought of his parentage. She wondered how he would take it. Would it bring them closer together or drive them apart?

Arya found Gendry in the forge, sitting at the table and sharpening an edge on a sword he had repaired. He looked up and smiled, his blue eyes sparkling when he saw her. She grinned and said, “Hello, not brother.” Besides being big and strong, Arya noticed again that he really was a handsome boy. She remembered hearing her mother say that the youthful Robert had also been handsome before the pressures of kingship turned him into the fat, bloated drunk who visited Winterfell. No wonder the girls at “The Peach” could not keep their hands off the young smith. Thinking back to Thoros’ words, she imagined “Lord Gendry” surrounded by the beautiful ladies at court. His father had an eye for women, and what if he was the same? Arya briefly had a feeling of inadequacy. _I’m not as pretty as those proper ladies. Mayhaps he won’t like me anymore,_ she thought. But then she remembered how desperate he was for her touch the previous day. She would not let those misgivings spoil her mood. _If I see a lady put her hands on him, I’ll stick her with the pointy end!_

Seeing her grinning face, Gendry thought, _If a bit of snogging will replace her usual scowl with a smile, I’m going to kiss her every day._

Arya came closer and impulsively sat sideways on his lap. Gendry was a large man, like her father, but it did not feel anything like sitting in Father’s lap. She felt kind of naughty pressed against his crotch. _It figures,_ Arya thought, _Septa Mordane said I was naughty from the moment I was born._

Gendry put the sword and stone aside and wiped the polishing oil off his hands with a cloth. He loved the way her small round arse warmed his lap. He leaned into her and nuzzled her cheek. 

Arya said, “Gendry, you are going to have to shave closer and more often or you are going to scratch my face again.” 

He just grinned and sarcastically replied, “Yes, milady dear.” 

She smacked his shoulder hard, but smiled as she did it. He went to put his arms around her, but she moved his hands to her bosom. 

“Is this is what you wanted?” she asked innocently. 

He nodded, but only gulped in reply. Even through two layers of cloth, Gendry could feel the twin domes of her breasts, the size of small apples. He had never felt body parts so soft in his life, and massaged them gently, occasionally squeezing the small hard teat in the center of each breast. Her head fell back, her eyes closed, and she began to mew like a hungry kitten. He kissed her exposed throat, and worked butterfly kisses up her neck until he reached a spot right behind her right ear, sucking and kissing the soft skin. 

She felt as if she were melting into a puddle, and moaned loudly in response when he moved to her mouth, feverishly tangling their tongues. 

Gendry made a mental note to always give that area lots of attention. 

As the day before, Arya was focused solely on what his hands and mouth were doing to her, and she realized that she was grinding her bottom into his lap, as if she were trying to start a fire. It certainly felt like one was starting deep in her belly. 

Suddenly, both of them become aware that something long and hard was pressing back insistently on her arse. Shocked and embarrassed, their eyes flew open and they pulled their mouths apart, staring hard at each other, with pink faces, sweating intensely as though they had been sparring for several hours, and not just kissing for several minutes. 

Gendry was breathing heavily, “Arya, I think we need to stop. In fact, I know we need to stop!” He stood up abruptly, and she fell off his lab, her bottom suddenly landing on the floor with a thump. Arya was about to scold him, but saw that he did not turn around. Instead he was stalking off, muttering loudly, “I need a cold bath.” 

Outside the cave, and not too far into forest, was a stream that the Brotherhood used for drinking water. At one spot it widened into a small, shaded pool, perfect for bathing. By the side of the pool, Gendry stripped down to his smallclothes, and looking over, he saw that she had followed him. Still thinking about how good she felt in his lap, he said, “You better go back, for I can’t trust myself if you don’t.” 

Arya simply laughed, replying, “I can protect myself,” as she started taking off her breeches. 

Gendry stood motionless with his tunic in hand, gawking at the sight of her in her smallclothes. Her legs appeared impossibly long for a girl of her small stature, and they were strong and shapely from years of water dancing.

“What are you staring at, stupid?” 

“Your legs, they’re perfect.” 

“They are just legs. What’s the big deal?” 

“I like looking at them.” 

“Gods, your brain will probably melt when you see me naked.” 

Gendry’s face turned red and he appeared to be in pain. “Arya, stop! Now I can’t think straight!” 

“I didn’t think you ever could,” she smirked, noticing a strange tenting in his smallclothes. 

Gendry gulped and said, “I have to go into the woods for a moment. I’ll be right back.” 

He appeared calmer when he returned and jumped into the water, splashing Arya, who has already started swimming. She splashed him back, blinding him for a moment. Arya immediately swam behind him and climbed on his back. Gendry anticipated what she wanted and helped her to get up on his shoulders, holding her ankles. He pushed upwards, as she shouted and dived off into the water with a loud splash. She instantly returned to his back and they repeated the game many times. It was like playing with her brothers during happier days in Winterfell long ago. Finally, Arya stayed underwater and pushed his legs out from under him, making him lose his balance and soaking his head. Gendry grabbed her and they wrestled for a while. He was large and strong, but she was fast and agile, and could easily escape his grasp. Arya could swim like a fish and enjoyed teasing him. Eventually they stopped playing and smiled at each other as they pushed hair out of their eyes. He noticed how Arya’s thin, wet undershirt clung closely to her upper body, provocatively revealing the shape of her lovely breasts. Gendry started to get aroused again.

 _This is not good,_ he thought, and said aloud, “We should get dressed, the others will be looking for us, and Lem obviously doesn’t trust me to be alone with you.” 

At the mention of Lem Lemoncloak, Arya stuck out her tongue, and replied, “Pfft, I don’t care what Lem thinks.” 

Gendry thought, _Sometimes she still really is a child._

Reluctantly, they both climbed out of the pond, dripping and shaking water out of their hair and rubbing their limbs dry with their hands. Gendry continued to play, shaking his head in Arya’s direction, getting her wet again, to her annoyance. They dressed in silence, looking away from each other, embarrassed with the memory of their recent intimacy. Their bodies were still damp, but at least their ardor had cooled for the moment. 

As they walked back to the cave, Arya suddenly turned to him and said, “Gendry, we need to talk.”

He looked at her warily, thinking, _Nothing good has ever come from hearing those words._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, readers! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Here is a little game for you: I have included two lines of dialogue between two other "star-crossed lovers" from classical literature. See if you can identify them.

As they walked back to the cave, Arya suddenly turned to him and said, “Gendry, we need to talk.”

He looked at her warily, thinking, _Nothing good has ever come from hearing those words_.

She led him to the open area of the Hollow Hill cave that served as a dining hall. Arya sternly said, “I’m not going to sit in your lap, that’s too distracting,” as she plopped down on a bench. He sat opposite her, and reached for her hand over the table, entwining their fingers. He needed to touch her. Her hand was small, but strong from her constant practice at swordplay.

Arya marveled how his large, strong, callused hand could hold her small one so gently. She thought, _This is nice, too,_ and then rolled her eyes, thinking, _Gods, I’m turning into Sansa!_

“Gendry, when you were an apprentice to Tobho Mott, Lord Arryn and my father both came to his shop not to buy anything, but specifically to see you. Do you know why?”

He shook his head, “No idea.”

“Well, Father must have known why, because I learned from Yoren that Father told him to secretly take you out of King’s Landing. After we left, Queen Cersei sent Goldcloaks to bring you to her. Now why would she want to do that?” 

Gendry merely shrugged and Arya paused, gathering her thoughts.

“I think I know why. The last time I was in Father’s solar, I saw a big fat book on his desk about the history of Westeros, mainly long boring lists about the members of the Great Houses and physical descriptions of their children.”

“So?”

“The book was open to the Baratheon pages. The children of all Baratheon marriages were large, and had black hair and bright blue eyes. Gendry, I think you are the bastard son of King Robert Baratheon, and the Queen knew it and wanted you dead!”

She added, “Thoros also suspects that you are the son of King Robert, and I’ll wager that anyone who knew him would have the same thought.”

“But that’s ridiculous! Why would the Queen want to kill me, a simple smith?” Gendry was reeling, _Why was she teasing him like this?_ He dropped her hand, as if it were a hot coal.

Arya had a feeling of loss, and not just the physical contact. “No, it makes sense now. When I was Lord Tywin’s cupbearer, I saw him get really angry because Lord Stannis sent ravens all over Westeros, announcing that Queen Cersei’s children were the result of her incest with her brother, Jaime, and that Joffrey could not be king. Lord Stannis then claimed the throne for himself, as King Robert’s brother.” 

“I still don’t see what this has to do with me!” Gendry was confused and furious.

“If the Lannisters have no claim on the crown, your bloodline puts you in the line of succession, even ahead of Lord Stannis.” 

“But I’m just an uneducated low-born bastard,” he muttered.

Arya smirked, “Gendry, you don’t understand politics. If some Houses thought it would be advantageous for them to find a way to legitimize you and put you on the throne, it would be done. That odious scum, Littlefinger, would agree with me if he were here.”

This news was shocking, unexpected, and a bit unwelcome. Gendry had no need for a complication like this in his life and didn’t know what to think. All he knew is that he wanted to be near Arya. He came around to her side of the table, took hold of her hand again and kissed the damp, unruly hair on top of her head. “I don’t want any part in that.” He paused for a moment, “What do we do now?”

“We will have to be very careful because it would be dangerous for either of us to fall into the hands of the Lannisters,” Arya replied, while worrying to herself, _And we will have to travel through Lannister-held lands to reach my family!_

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the midday meal on the following day, Gendry asked Arya to return to the forge with him. He handed her a shortsword that was obviously freshly sharpened. 

“This sword is a little smaller than usual, but it is well-balanced and ideal for your size.” She grabbed the hilt and waved it in all directions, testing it, and seemed pleased.

He continued, “It is quite sharp now, and you will need a scabbard so you don’t get cut by it. I found an old one that fits, but you will have to relace it.”

Arya scowled, “You know I am hopeless at sewing.” 

Gendry was patient with her. ”Not sewing, just a bit of relacing, like leatherwork. I’ll show you, if you need help.”

But Arya was determined to be independent. “Thanks, but I’ll figure it out myself. Thank you for the sword.” She stuck it through her belt. With her dagger on the other side, she felt complete. _I’ll never be a helpless mouse again_ , she vowed to herself.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arya was serious about Gendry becoming more proficient at swordplay. “If you are to be my sworn shield, you better be a good fighter.”

She brought him to Thoros at the training yard for evaluation and instruction. Thoros said, “I know you can make and repair swords, so let’s see if you can wield one.”

Gendry sparred with Thoros, using a variety of weapons. He was quite nimble for a large man, and proved to be adequate on defense with a shortsword. However, he was clumsy and awkward with a broadsword on offense. Thoros laughed and japed, “You look like you are swinging a hammer!” 

This comment gave Arya an idea and she went over to the bin of practice weapons. She selected a large wooden warhammer and brought it to Gendry. He gripped the leather handle and swung it around, finding the balance. He found that he could easily block Thoros’ blows with the shaft, and when the opportunity presented itself, he made a successful attack and knocked Thoros down. Gendry grinned at his skill with his new weapon. 

Thoros got up and dusted himself off. “Well, Bull, it looks like you have found the means for protecting your Lady.” He reflected, _I’m not surprised. The warhammer was his father’s choice of weapon_.

Arya had to agree with Thoros, but she did not like the way he had put it. _I can protect myself_! She thought.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a few days, Lord Beric returned to the Hollow Hill from a successful ambush of the Lannister raiding party. He was pleased that his troops had suffered no casualties other than a few men superficially wounded. He also had some interesting news, and summoned Arya to meet him at the main fire pit. Arya arrived from the training yard, her almost shoulder-length hair disheveled and her face pink and sweaty from exercise. She was dressed in boy’s clothes as usual, with a shortsword tucked into the left side of her belt, and a throwing dagger on the right for quick retrieval. She would appear to be a diligent and promising squire, except for her developing feminine form. Her hips, curving suggestively from a narrow waist, usually provoked a second glance from passing men. Beric thought, _If that is the Princess of the North, I have no fear for the survival of her House._ He sadly reflected on her noble, but ill-served father, the one man in King’s Landing that he had trusted. _Lord Stark would be proud of his daughter. It’s too bad she was not born a boy, life would have been easier_.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Edric Dane, Lord Beric’s squire also returned with him. Edric, usually called Ned by his companions, approached Anguy and asked, “Why does Lady Arya appear so different? She is smiling and looks happy for a change.”

Anguy smirked, “Her change in demeanor has cost me some coin. When the Lady Wolf and her Bastard Smith joined us, the glances they shared convinced me that he had already bedded her. Tom thought otherwise and wagered me that my assumption was premature. He turned out to be right, as only the other day the Bull started kissing her, and that’s why she doesn’t scowl as much now.”

Ned was surprised and a bit jealous. He was only a year older than Arya, and sometimes imagined, even though she was descended from one of the Great Houses of Westeros and his, Starfall, was well-respected but not a Great House, that they might wed someday. Ned thought Arya was quite pretty and intriguing, but he was frightened by her anger. He was afraid to spar with her in the training yard because she fought every session as if her life depended on it. He didn’t know that her Dancing Master had drummed that into her. In his dreams, Ned would approach her and try to kiss her, but the dreams always ended with him receiving a black eye from her furious fist. Now that Gendry had taken the initiative and she had responded to him, Ned realized that he had no chance with her, not that he ever really had any to begin with. 

Anguy noticed his disappointment, and said, “Aye, it would take a strong and determined man to match that fierce she-wolf, and the smith doesn’t seem to mind that she is tougher than most men.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arya responded to Lord Beric’s summons. Since Beric was a stern and formidable leader, he was the one person she allowed to call her “Lady” without complaint. 

“Lady Arya, I heard an interesting story while traveling the Riverlands, one that involves you. When your brother brought his troops out of North, the Lannisters assumed that they would approach along the Kingsroad. However, as a clever tactic, King Robb crossed the Green River at the Twins and attacked the Lannisters from the rear, surprising them and winning several encounters. As you know, the Freys hold the Twins, and he needed their Lord’s permission to cross the bridge. Lord Walder Frey is bound to House Tully of Riverrun, but is a reluctant ally. Your Lady mother negotiated the crossing by offering to betroth Robb to one of Lord Frey’s daughters. A link to House Stark was very tempting to him. However, Robb got injured in a battle.”

Arya was about to interrupt him, and seeing the shock and fear on her face, Beric hastily added, “There is no need for concern, my Lady, the injury was not life-threatening, and his health is improving as we speak.” She looked less worried when she heard this.  
Lord Beric continued, “Your brother was nursed back to health by Jayne Westerling, the daughter of a minor House pledged to the Lannisters. Robb foolishly got this Jayne with child, and it seems he felt the honorable thing to do was to marry her. Walter Frey was furious at this disrespectful action and was very annoyed.”

Arya angrily interjected, “Humph, Freys have no honor anyway, and Robb should not have cared what they thought.”

Beric looked at Arya with interest and thought, _this wolf child is most likely dangerous with a sword in her hand_. He returned to his story. “Nevertheless, Lady Catelyn offered her brother, Edmure Tully, as a substitute bridegroom, and Lord Walder agreed to a match with his daughter, Roslin. So your family is no longer at Riverrun, but Lady Catelyn, King Robb, and several of his bannermen are presently traveling to the Twins for the wedding. If we are to reunite you with your family, we will have to go to the Twins, which is a much longer journey than Riverrun. I promised that we would take you to your family, so we will prepare for travel and leave in a few days.” He paused after this pronouncement.

Arya was surprised with these developments, but was pleased that she would be with her family soon. “Thank you, Lord Beric, I am eager to see my mother and brother again. We have been separated for far too long.”

Lord Beric added with a grin, “By the way, my Lady, Edmure’s betrothal was not the only contract your mother arranged. Apparently, in order to secure the initial passage of King Robb’s army over the bridge at the Twins, she also betrothed _you_ to Lord Frey’s grandson, Elmar, who is of an age with you.” 

Arya jumped to her feet. “Elmar Frey! I knew him at Harrenhal! He was as sorry an excuse for a squire as I have ever met! I did not spar because it would have given away my identity, but I saw him in the training yard. I could have had that pitiful, chinless idiot on his back screaming ‘I yield!’ before he could pull his sword from his belt! If I ever see him again, I will spit him like a pig, and roast him! Betrothed to Elmar Frey! I’d rather die!” 

Arya was so furious that everyone nearby, including Lord Beric, who had been smiling, backed away from her. He observed, “Lady Arya, if the Young Wolf could harness your fury, the North would win the war in a month.”

Arya would not calm down. “I am not a horse to be traded at will! And for passage over a bridge! What was Mother thinking?!”

Lord Beric replied gently, “I’m sorry for your dismay, Lady Arya, but your Lady Mother was thinking more about gaining an advantage on the Lannisters and defeating them, as opposed to your happiness.”

“I would rather be a sellsword than a lady! A destitute, friendless sellsword has more choices that a highborn lady!” She would not be mollified, and stomped away. 

Tom Sevenstrings watched her leave, and casually drawled, “Anyone want to spar with the she-wolf right now? If so, you must not want to go on living!”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When she had cooled off, Arya returned to the fire pit, because she had another topic to discuss with Lord Beric.

“Lord Beric, I understand that you intend to knight my friend, Gendry. I would request that if you do so, appoint him as my sworn shield, also. We have been companions for several years, have fought side by side, and survived many hardships together. I am comfortable with him and would like to continue having him as an ally.”

Beric gave this suggestion some thought, and then replied. “Lady Arya, it is not unusual for a knight to be given a vocation or assignment. We are enduring uncertain times and traveling in dangerous places. As Princess of the North, you probably do require more of an entourage than the Brotherhood can provide. I will consider your request. I am loath to lose such a talented smith, but your need is greater, and I owe it to your father to do my best to keep you safe.”

Mention of her father always gave Arya sorrow, but she was pleased that Lord Beric agreed with her. _I can’t wait to tell Gendry_! She thought, but bit her lip as she fretted, _I hope he really meant it when he said that he wanted to stay with me. It is easy to say that while we are comfortable here in the Hollow Hill, but what if our journey to the Twins proves to be as dangerous as the Kingsroad and Harrenhal was for us? I had to lie to him to get him to leave Harrenhal with me, and he may get suspicious of my plans again_. She had a nagging feeling that life on the road would bring difficult challenges to their growing friendship

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Hollow Hill prepared for the knighting ceremony. All who lived there were excited. Several families had sought the protection of the Brotherhood’s cave and performed many of the necessary tasks, since the Brothers were mostly soldiers. Gendry was provided with an almost new tunic, cleaned and brushed. The goodwives had often suggested that Arya try to look more ladylike, but never pressed the issue considering the difference between their stations. Since Arya was to be part of the ceremony, the women took the opportunity to convince her that it would be proper to dress for the occasion. They subjected her to a flowery bath, washed and braided her short hair, altered an attractive frock to fit her small frame, stuffed her into a corset, and even put a little kohl on her eyelashes and berry juice on her lips. They happily fussed over her while Arya protested at every embellishment.

Arya muttered to herself, _They are playing with me as though I were a doll, just like Sansa did when I was little!_ She complained loudly, “This is all a waste of time!” One of the younger women, who Arya thought spread her affections rather too freely amongst the men of the Brotherhood, smirked, “I’m sure your handsome smith will appreciate the effort. Will you require moon tea?”

“Why would I need moon tea?” She wondered aloud, and then with a blush, exclaimed, “Oh!” The women all laughed at her innocence, but in a sweet and friendly way, except for the loose young woman, who winked at her suggestively and cackled loudly, to Arya’s further embarrassment. 

Finally she was ready for the ceremony. The goodwives seemed very pleased with their work. The dress felt impossibly tight and revealed more bosom than Arya felt comfortable showing, but perhaps the discomfort was worth the effect when she saw Gendry, Anguy, and Ned Dane drop their jaws as they stared at her. The older men were looking too, and Arya noticed Thoros mouthing the words “Lyanna Stark” to Lem and Tom Sevenstrings, and they nodded in agreement. Arya felt very self-conscious being the center of attention, but that was the point of all the primping and preening, she supposed. _My Aunt Lyanna would never have let herself be intimidated by a bunch of unwashed, gaping outlaws_ , she thought, _so I won’t either!_ She squared her shoulders, and held her head high, defiantly staring back at the men, daggers in her eyes.

Lord Beric said, “Lady Arya, stand next to me. Gendry, kneel before us.” Gendry knelt and lowered his head.

Lord Beric recited, "Gendry, do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your captain, to protect your companions, and your liege lady, to fight bravely when needed, and do such other tasks that are laid upon you, however hard or humble or dangerous they may be?"

He answered, "I do, milord."

Lord Beric stepped forward and rested his broadsword on Gendry’s shoulder. He moved the sword from his right shoulder to his left and said to him, "Arise, Ser Gendry, knight of the Hollow Hill. He added, “Ser Gendry, I appoint you sworn shield to the Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell, to protect her life with your own. Rise and bow to your Lady.”

Gendry stood up, bowed, and when he was upright again, Arya admired how proud and handsome he looked. She impulsively moved in swiftly, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him quickly full on the lips, leaving him red-faced and red-eared, before backing away. The assemblage laughed and giggled heartily.

Lord Beric said to her softly, “Lady Arya, it may be safe to do that among the Brotherhood, but be aware that kissing a man who is not betrothed to you is not acceptable behavior in high born young Ladies.” 

“Ah, but I am not a Lady,” Arya retorted.

Lord Beric looked at her severely, “If you truly believe that, my Lady, you are fooling yourself. Take care.”

Drinks were served, toasts were made, and conversations began. Tom Sevenstrings took the opportunity to strum “No Featherbed for Me” on his woodharp. Lord Beric took Gendry aside and explained the details of a knight’s duties, but Gendry’s eyes were fixed on Arya. Harwin, who had been her father’s bannerman, and other members of the Brotherhood were coming up to her to pay their respects, and to get a closer view of her cleavage. Ned Dayne brought her a cup of wine and a sweet cake, and she favored him with a big sweet smile. Gendry noted how well-matched the two confident high-born youngsters appeared, and felt a strong pang of jealousy. Ned was handsome in his own way, with blonde hair and violet eyes, and Gendry worried, _What if she changes her mind about me? What if she prefers this proper Lord instead of a sweaty smith with dirt under his fingernails and soot all over his body?_ His eyes narrowed and he stared angrily with animosity at the men leering at his Lady. _I think that she is actually enjoying all this lewd attention, the little vixen!_

Gendry thanked Lord Beric and made his excuses to go speak with Arya. He tried to keep anger out of his voice as he told her, “I don’t like every man staring at you! Do you have to wear such a revealing dress? I think we should leave!”

 _So he thinks of me as a possession, too!_ She thought and huffed in reply, “Do you think I want to look like this?! How dare you tell me what to wear! And I have no wish to leave! There have been too few opportunities to have fun and I’m not going to let you drag me away because you are jealous! Mayhaps I was enjoying Lord Dayne fawning all over me!”

Gendry looked abashed and told her, “I am sorry, and I admit that I am jealous. I think you look beautiful and I don’t want to share you with anyone, especially Ned Dayne.”

Arya replied with a smile, “I accept your apology and expect you to prove your admiration for me with a ‘non-brotherly’ kiss later.”

He returned her smile and with a hopeful expression, thinking of what would happen when they were alone.

When the ceremony was over, Arya was spoiling for a fight, as she was still mad at the men for leering at her. Between the low neckline of the dress and the pressure of the corset, the upper curve of her breasts and her cleavage were prominent. Some men didn’t even have the decency to raise their eyes to hers when they came to express their deference. She resented being considered as a useless, pretty object.

Arya reflected, _Women can’t run in dresses nor spar in a corset. I hate this helpless feeling. It is as though men planned the attire to make women weaker_. She scowled at Gendry and moodily said, “I’ll wager you would like me to wear dresses all the time.”

“Not really, I prefer you in breeches because then I can see your tight little arse.”

“Wonderful,” Arya replied sarcastically, “When I wear a frock, men stare at my figure and my breasts, and when I wear breeches, my bum is on display!”

Gendry shrugged, “You better get used to it. You are highborn and pretty, and are certainly going to attract attention, especially because you wear a sword in your belt.” 

“Well, I’m ready to get out of this costume and I want you to unlace me so you can see what torment I had to put up with.” They retired to a private alcove and Gendry moved behind her to unlace the tight apparel. As much as he enjoyed seeing her in the dress, he did feel guilty at how uncomfortable she must have been. He tapped the exposed corset, noticing the strips of stiff whalebone sewn into the silk. “This would make a good armor,” he japed.

Arya rolled her eyes, turned her head to look at him, and stuck out her tongue. “Armor shouldn’t cause the wearer to faint from lack of breath.”

Gendry moved in front of Arya and took the opportunity to hug her, and then he impulsively slipped his hands under her dress to cup the globes of her arse, surprised to feel real silk smallclothes. _I’ve always wanted to do this_ , he thought with pleasure.

Arya was also surprised, noticing that unusual yearning feeling again deep in her belly as she was pressed against his body. _What IS that?_ she wondered. She looked at him sharply and roughly pushed him back. “Go away now so I can finish changing. I’ll meet you in the training yard.”

Gendry replied with a smile and flashing eyes, “Would you leave me so unsatisfied?”

Arya looked startled and asked, “What satisfaction would you have?”

Gendry grinned, “Another kiss would please me.”

Arya gave him a quick peck on the cheek and pushed him again. “There, now go away. I want to stay angry with you men so I can fight better. I want you all to suffer from my humiliation.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Arya was comfortably attired in a tunic, breeches, and weapons in her belt once again, she returned to the dining hall and glared at the Brothers, many of whom were deep in their cups by now. “Well, you have had your fun staring at my teats, and now it is time to pay the piper! Meet me in the training yard! Now!”

The drunken men did not need much encouragement to reflect on the pale skin of her lovely bosom that Arya had so generously exposed recently. Her hair was still braided and she had forgotten to wash the make-up off, so she was still an attractive sight. Anguy raised his cup and shouted, “A toast! A toast! A toast to the precious jewels the she-wolf conceals under her tunic!” 

Notch raised his cup and waggled his eyebrows, “A toast to the wolf who is not a Lady, but is most definitely a woman!”

“Aye!” Jack-be-Lucky added, “The she-wolf will growl in my dreams tonight!”

Arya looked at them and scowled. _Let them laugh now. I’ll have them in pain soon enough!_ She realized that some of the men were too drunk to fight well, but she felt no guilt about knowing that she could easily hurt them. _They deserve it!_ she thought.

She led them to the training yard and sparred with several of the men one at a time, determined to show them that she was to be feared. Gendry had been waiting there and was first. She knew how to knock him off-balance, and had him on his back in the dirt promptly. Spinning, twirling, moving too fast to be touched, she successively knocked the legs out from under Harwin, Mudge, and Notch, all of whom were quite tipsy, shouting “Yield!” while prodding their chests with her wooden practice sword. Her fury did not seem to abate, and finally Thoros entered the fray. He crossed swords with her several times, back and forth, until he feigned a stumble, and as Arya moved in quickly for a strike, Thoros regained his balance and knocked her roughly to the ground. He placed his foot firmly on her chest and sternly said, “Enough! You are becoming tired and careless, and that is when injury occurs! Ser Gendry, take the Lady to the kitchen and get her a cool drink. We are done here!” Thoros turned his back to her and walked away briskly.

Arya was panting heavily, and did not resist as Gendry offered a hand to lift her out of the dirt, and silently led her out of the training yard. She was too tired to argue and she realized that her anger had finally passed. _I showed them all!_ She thought as they walked away. _I’m no simpering twit!_

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that evening, Arya and Gendry returned to their usual sleeping alcove. They had slept next to each other for safety while traveling on the Kingsroad, and continued the practice at Hollow Hill, finding a private corner to throw their sleeping furs. They normally slept in their smallclothes, but since they had become more intimate of late, were more careful about any touching each other at night, beyond a goodnight kiss.

When they had settled into their bedding, Gendry said, “Arya, after all that talk earlier, I would love to see your breasts now.”

Arya pondered for a moment, and then with a shrug, replied, “Fine, I still don’t see what all the fuss is about, I’ve been watching them grow on me for several years now.” 

Gendry grinned and quipped, “They have been growing on me for several years, also,” thinking he was being witty.

Arya rolled her eyes, muttering, “Stupid Bull,” as she tugged her undershirt over her head, tossing it aside. 

Gendry stared at her, transfixed. Arya’s face, neck, and hands were well tanned by constant exposure to the sun, but the skin of her bare upper body, like most folk who lived north of the Neck, was a pale white that almost seemed to glow from within, like alabaster. 

Gendry said nothing, but his face looked worshipful, as he reached to touch her breasts. They were small and round, and fit perfectly in the palms of his hands, but what really drove him crazy were her teats, located in the center of each flawless dome, staring him in the face. Like her breasts, they were also small, as pink as almost ripe strawberries, wrinkled, and each came to a small point. He needed more contact. Continuing to hold and massage her left breast while gently squeezing the teat, he placed his mouth over her right breast, inhaling deeply. 

Arya’s eyes closed and her head fell back as she moaned, “Oooooooh!” That familiar warm, yearning feeling deep in her belly started again, and she moved her lower body closer to his. The first time she had noticed that feeling was while she watched Gendry shirtless at the forge in Harrenhal. She loved the way the muscles of his chest and back moved as he wielded his hammer. She thought the feeling was hunger and went and got an apple to eat as she watched him work. She next noticed it when she and Gendry wrestled at Acorn Hall. She thought it had to do with all the tickling. Now the feeling was all-consuming, and she knew it was in response to Gendry’s touch.

Gendry was beginning to lose control. His mouth started moving quickly from one teat to the other, back and forth, sucking and biting gently, while squeezing her breasts with both hands, until he was startled to hear her gasp, “Bite a little harder!” Gendry couldn’t stop. He was like a starving man, and only her breasts could satiate his appetite. As he continued to suck and nibble, her moans grew longer and louder. He realized Arya had lifted her leg over his hip, rubbing her core against him, desperate for more friction. She continued moaning, as if she had a fever. Arya’s fingers were in his hair, holding his head tightly against her breasts, so that he could scarcely breathe. When her words were coherent, it was as though she was begging desperately, “Gendry, I need, I need……” She sounded like she was about to faint.

Gendry moved one hand to the juncture between her legs, where she was pressing insistently against him, vibrating intensely, and was startled to discover that her smallclothes were soaking wet and hot to the touch. He pressed his hand firmly against her mound; she shuddered, and responded by panting breathlessly at the top of her voice, “Aaaaaahhhh!! Oooh, Gendry!!” Arya violently pulled a handful of hair out of his head as she fell back and released her grip on him, sighing contentedly.

Arya’s breathing slowly returned to normal. Her eyes, gray as early storm clouds, looked soft and glazed, drops of sweat dotted her cheeks and forehead, and the hair around her face was damp. That needy, yearning feeling that had taken over the private place where Gendry had briefly touched was replaced by a warm, damp, relaxed sensation. Arya stretched her legs out, noticing a tingling feeling in her toes that was slowly receding. “What _was_ that?” she asked, exhaustion obvious in her voice, and with a puzzled look at the hank of hair in her hand.

Remembering his confusing conversations with Tom and Anguy about women, Gendry said proudly, “Milady, I think I have pleasured you!” The back of his head hurt, and it felt wet, as if she’d made him bleed. 

Arya smiled with a satisfied expression, “Well, whatever that was, I hope you know how to do it again.” Their goodnight kiss was short and soft, gently intertwining tongues, but with none of their usual urgency. She curled up and fell into a sound sleep soon afterwards, and Gendry went for a very short walk in the woods to deal with _his_ needs before wrapping himself in furs next to her. He looked at her sweet little sleeping face and realized that, for as much trouble and danger they had experienced since they met, he would not want to exchange it for the simple life he might have had in King’s Landing. There would always be adventure in Arya’s life, and he hoped that he could continue to play a part in it. 

Next morning, when the pair arrived at the dining hall, they were greeted with a standing ovation. Both turned bright red and Arya covered her face with her hands. Before he could get away, the men were pounding Gendry’s back, shouting their approval. The loose young woman sidled over to Arya and whispered conspiratorially, “Do you want that moon tea now?” Neither could convince anyone present that nothing had really happened during the night, so they just ate their breakfast in silence while being endlessly teased, blushing at the bawdy comments. Eventually they were able to get away, and Gendry offered to spar with Arya, knowing that fighting was the best activity to help her recover her composure. Gendry secretly felt pleased by all the attention.

Later, Lord Beric found them in the training yard, and said, “Make your preparations to leave the Hollow Hill. We will begin our journey to the Twins the day after tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Turnabout is fair play, and Arya wants to explore his body now.
> 
> Also, the journey to the Twins and arrival of word about the Red Wedding


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience. I'm sorry that this chapter took so long to post. I have to write shorter chapters. Hope you enjoy this!

Chapter Four

Lord Beric found Arya helping Gendry improve his swordplay in the training yard, and said, “Make your preparations to leave the Hollow Hill. We will begin our journey to the Twins the day after tomorrow.” 

He observed once again that she possessed the qualifications to be a perfect squire, if only she were male. _Perhaps her father was wishfully raising her to be a lord._ Beric remembered that Arya had described her time as cupbearer to Lord Tywin at Harrenhal, and how the brilliant tactician had amused himself, and educated her, by discussing military history and strategy. Tywin had quickly realized that she was a highborn girl masquerading as smallfolk for protection. His game was to trick her into revealing her House, but she was too clever to give him enough clues. 

_Lady Stark is no ordinary girl._ Beric reflected how members of the Brotherhood believed, and often discussed, that the smallfolk had identical abilities as nobles, and given the same resources, could accomplish the same achievements. They felt that smallfolk could learn their letters and sums as well as the highborns, and make use of their education. He had an outrageous thought, _If smallfolk and highborns are born with the same potential, why not both men and women, also?! Lady Arya is a perfect example of a female who could be as good a leader as a man_! He shook his head to clear it of such an absurd idea. _That could not happen._ Beric’s thoughts returned to the reason he had come out to the training yard. “Lady Arya, come walk with me. Please excuse us, Ser Gendry.”

When they were alone, Lord Beric looked sharply at her and said, “Lady Arya, I must speak bluntly. Has Ser Gendry taken your maidenhead?”

Arya blushed furiously and could not meet his eyes. She looked at the ground and replied, “No, my lord, we have shared little more than kisses.”

Beric was relieved, and told her sternly, “If you are not a maiden when we return you to your family, you will shame them and cause a scandal. You know the words of House Tully – ‘Family, duty, honor’. You do not want to disgrace both your House and your Lady mother’s. Besides, you are officially betrothed to a Frey of the Twins, and if you are not intact, they will have cause to protest. From what I have observed, Gendry is a good lad and would not seek to dishonor you, but you can be bold and heedless, and do not think of the consequences of your actions. I urge you to seriously consider your behavior with your sworn shield, and be more cautious. I know you have slept close to him on your travels for safety, but I recommend that you discontinue that practice from now on.” 

Arya thought, _Once again, I am reminded that I am nothing more than a vessel for birthing babe_ s, but she could not say that to Lord Beric. Instead she nodded, and replied, “I will do my best not to bring shame to my family, and will move to a private sleeping alcove tonight.”

Beric added, “Consider also, my lady, if Ser Gendry were to bed you, your brother would be within his rights to separate him from his head, as an example to any baseborn who would dare to do such a thing.”

She looked startled, thinking, _Is there no end to this nonsense?_ ! but replied with a chastised face, “I would not want that to happen, and I will be careful.”

Lord Beric did not want to leave her with such morbid thoughts. “Don’t be so sad, my lady. I know that you and Gendry are very fond of each other, even if you come from different social classes. As the bastard son of a king, Ser Gendry will have the opportunity to improve his station. We are in the midst of a war, and if he proves to be a brave knight and a respected leader, he could become a legitimized Baratheon with ties to Storm’s End. Gendry would then represent a Great House, and many lords would approve of a match between the two of you, a match which would unite the North and South of Westeros, and perhaps contribute to peace among the Kingdoms. This would not be an easy path, though, as you would also have to break your betrothal to Elmar Frey, whom you seem loath to marry, but it is possibility.”

Arya did not want to think about marriage to _anyone,_ but if there was a way for Gendry to remain nearby even after reuniting with her family, she would consider it. She reflected on her relationship with Gendry since she met him. His usually calm demeanor provided a contrast to her volatile nature, and when she was particularly distressed, he was the one person who could console her and help her cope. He reminded her of her beloved brother Jon, but his “non-brotherly” kisses had opened a new world of sensations for her and she wanted to continue exploring that world with him.

\--------------------------

Once Arya was gone, Gendry went over to use the quintain for an opponent. He struck the shield with some force and the weapon arm swung around, extending a mace on a chain which Gendry avoided by quickly moving away. _I like sparring with this device. Arya is too fast for me, and often gets the advantage_. He realized that he would have to train harder if he were to use his size and superior strength to best the she-wolf.

As he practiced his technique, Harwin approached and said, “Ser Gendry, I’d like to have a word with you.”

Gendry saw that the young man wore a troubled look, so he put down his sword and replied, “I’m listening,” wondering, _why is he being so formal?_

Harwin spoke awkwardly at first, but his speech became easier as he reminisced about his home. “Gendry, I was a man of Winterfell, and I have known Lady Arya since she was a wee babe. As a child, it was hard to consider her a girl, for she followed her two older brothers and her father’s ward everywhere. She dressed in clothes stolen from her younger brother, and rode, wrestled, sparred, and swam with the boys. Her septa, Lady mother, and sister, Lady Sansa, despaired at her unladylike behavior, but their efforts to change her were fruitless.”

Gendry chuckled, “I am not surprised. When I first met her, she had me fooled for quite a while, but I eventually realized that she was a girl.”

Harwin continued, “She did complete her lessons with the maester as expected, and was proud to brag that among her siblings, she was the best at sums. The little lady ran into trouble when she insisted on studying military history with her brothers instead of poetry and songs with her sister. She argued constantly with her mother and septa, but her father told them to leave her alone.” 

He smiled at his memories of happy days in Winterfell, “Lady Arya was a favorite of the smallfolk and could be found everywhere in the castle. She was nicknamed ‘Arya Underfoot’ for she frequented the kitchens, the armory, and even pestered Mikken at the forge with questions about his work.”

Gendry raised his eyebrows and laughed at that, “She has done the same with me.”

“The stable was her favorite place as she was a natural horsewoman from the first, and since my father, Hullen, was master of horse at Winterfell, I saw her quite often and became very fond of her. For that reason, I must tell you that I am concerned about your conduct with Lady Arya and fear that you have ruined her.”

Gendry blushed and replied, “You have no cause to worry, Harwin. Although I do have very strong feelings for the lady, I would not despoil her.”

Harwin looked relieved and responded, “In truth, Ser Gendry, I am less worried about your intentions, than about Lady Arya’s. She was always a willful, bold, and curious child, and I see that she has not changed much in that respect. I am afraid that if she decides that she wants to bed _you_ , it will be _your_ maidenhead that will need protecting. I urge you to avoid that situation.”

Gendry chuckled, but spoke seriously, “The lady wolf orders me around constantly, but I will try to safeguard her innocence, such as it is.”

#####

Arya returned to the training yard, swishing her sword back and forth, annoyed at the interruption. “Come, let us continue.”

Gendry saw that she was irritated, and asked, “What did Lord Beric say?”

She grinned mischievously and her grey eyes flashed, “He told me not to fuck you.”

Gendry turned red in response to her words as an image formed in his mind. _That is a distraction I do not need._ He said, “There is a lot of that talk going around. Your bannerman, Harwin, was recently here in the yard, telling me the same thing.”

Arya smirked in reply, “I hate it when people tell me what I should or should not do, so you better watch out.”

Gendry had to smirk also, “I’m always watching you, milady.”

As usual, she was quick to anger. “Stupid bull, don’t call me milady!”

“We have had this conversation before, milady. Perhaps we should discuss something else.”

Arya bit her lower lip and replied, “I told Lord Beric that for the sake of propriety, I would not share sleeping furs with you anymore.”

Gendry frowned and sighed, “I will miss your company, Arya, but I suppose it is for the best. There has been much gossip about our behavior.”

Arya responded with a wicked smile, “Syrio taught me to be as quiet as a shadow, so you might find a surprise in your bedding this evening.”

Gendry smiled hopefully, “I would certainly enjoy that, milady.”

Arya scowled at the title as usual, but only retorted, “I think we should get back to work now. We have wasted enough time this morning.”

Arya returned to coaching Gendry about his footwork, advising him how to keep his balance while sparring, and to look for opportunities to press an attack. They crossed their wooden swords often, Arya nimbly and rapidly changing her position, forcing him to follow her lead. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Gendry quickly moved in and tapped his sword on her chest.

“Good,” she paused for a moment, and said, “You are learning. You showed some finesse there. Let’s go through that sequence again.”

Gendry lowered his sword to the ground, took a deep breath, and replied, “Do we have to practice so much and for so long?”

“Syrio said you must practice a thousand times that which you may use in battle once. But that one time may save your life. Now raise your sword.”  
.  
Gendry sighed, resumed his stance, and pondered. _Arya is always preparing for a battle. Perhaps she knows more than she is letting on._

\----------------------------

After several hours of practice, they stopped for the mid-day meal. Gendry said that he needed to finish his work in the smithy, as they were leaving the next day. He had armor to reshape, and swords to fix and sharpen. He reminded Arya that that their personal weapons needed attention, also. She followed him to the forge and plopped down on a bench, swinging her legs like a child, and watching his chest with obvious interest as he pulled off his tunic, preparing for strenuous, hot work. Gendry looked over at her, reading her expression, and had an impulse to rush over and kiss her. “Arya, I can’t work with you sitting there. You are much too distracting. I’m liable to miss with my hammer and hurt myself.”

Arya frowned and bit her lip. She obviously did not want to leave. “I can help you. What should I do?”

Gendry had her bring him various tools and materials as he needed them and hold armor as he worked. Arya was quick and intuitive, and he realized that she easily served as an extra pair of hands. _It appears that her time in Winterfell’s forge was not wasted. As with her water dancing, she is a quick study._ He needed lots of water for his work, and she kept the buckets full. By the time Gendry was finishing up, he was perspiring profusely, and she moved closer to wipe his brow with a cloth, keeping the sweat from irritating his eyes. When he was done, he looked down into her face and saw that she was looking back intently. He could not help himself, and he grasped her waist with his large hands and pulled her to him into a deep kiss, to which she eagerly responded. All he could think was, _How in the seven hells am I going to remain chaste with this girl? She is going to make me crazy!_ He drew back and tried to recover his senses. “Thank you. You are very useful in the forge.”

Her eyes flashed and she grinned knowingly, “And thank you, too.”

\-------------------------

That evening, after she was sure that everyone was asleep, Arya crept over to where Gendry was wrapped in his furs, and woke him gently, with a hand over his mouth.

She hissed at him, “Turnabout is fair play. You had your way with me last night, and I want to explore _your_ body now.” She tugged on his undershirt and pulled it over his head.

In Winterfell, Robb, Jon, and Theon had encouraged Arya Underfoot to produce deep, resonant belches, impressive coming from a small girl, much to the delight of her brothers, and the consternation of her mother and sister. When the women complained to Lord Ned, he smiled and thought of his beloved sister, Lyanna, and replied, “Stop fretting, Arya will eventually become a lady, but in her own way.”

Arya had no problems with belching, but found the other sounds that men made were just plain gross. She had traveled with the Watch on the Kingsroad, masquerading as a young boy, and had become familiar with the world of men. They passed gas noisily often and smelled terrible most of the time. From observing when they infrequently bathed, she came to the conclusion that they were physically gross, also. Their bodies were often excessively hairy, lumpy and fat, with the amazing variety of the shapes and sizes of their cocks and bollocks oddly proportioned and strange. She found back hair to be especially disgusting.

Gendry, however, was different. From working as a smith his whole life, he was muscular and well-proportioned, with not an ounce of fat. His shoulders were broad and his torso tapered to a narrow waist, his stomach was flat and hard, and the muscles of his arms bulged from pounding steel with a hammer every day. His thighs were also strong and well-muscled, as thick as tree trunks. She imagined that he would present an imposing figure in plate armor.

But what delighted Arya the most, as she ran her hands over his arms and upper body, was the thick, soft black hair that covered his chest and then ran over his stomach to disappear under the waistband of his breeches. She discovered that he had two small, brownish teats, almost hidden by his chest hair. She squeezed and massaged them as he had done to her, and asked, “Do you feel anything special when I touch you here?” 

Gendry replied, “No, not really. They are not very sensitive. Mayhaps a little bit ticklish is all.” He was watching her efforts with curiosity. 

_Interesting,_ Arya thought, _when he touches mine, the sensation takes control of my mind._

As she tangled her fingers in his hair, moving slowly down his stomach, that now familiar feeling deep in her belly became stronger and stronger. The heady feeling she experienced when Gendry’s mouth had worshipped her breasts was returning, and she was surprised to notice that her smallclothes were becoming wet.

Arya started to unlace his breeches, and huskily told him, “Take these off.”

Gendry’s eyes had been closed. The sensitive skin of his torso tingled from the touch of Arya’s small, roving hands and he realized he was becoming more aroused than he had ever been in his life. He was living a dream he had been having for years, although Arya was always naked in his imagination. Gendry could not believe what was happening. His eyes snapped opened when he heard her request, and he croaked out, “What? What are you doing?”

Arya, now yanking impatiently on his loosened breeches, replied, “I want to see the rest of you. Don’t be shy.” She seemed to be possessed, quickly pulling his breeches completely off, and focusing on the huge tenting of his smallclothes as she started to unlace them.

Gendry was sweating and becoming embarrassed, not quite sure of what was happening. He was shocked at Arya’s determination and was fascinated as he watched her feverishly tearing at his clothes. He also realized that he was enjoying every moment of her attention. 

Arya feverishly pulled the smallclothes down, freeing Gendry’s enormous erection, which vibrated in the air upon release. Gendry groaned, as he was relieved of the intense pain his confined and swollen cock had suffered while clothed. She stared at his organ. It resembled a reddish sapling rising out a nest of thick black hair that surrounded the base, and was almost as thick around as her wrist. 

Arya, as bold and curious as ever, asked him, “What’s wrong with your cock? It never looked like that when you would whip it out to piss as we traveled the Kingsroad. That is, before you were too embarrassed to piss in front of me because you knew I was a girl. Does it hurt? Is it diseased?”

Gendry could not help but grin at her questions. “Nay, milady, there’s nothing wrong with my cock. It’s just ready to perform. And besides, you were never inclined to piss in front of me, so don’t go on about my embarrassment.”

Arya ignored that last remark, and asked, “What do you mean, _perform?_ And don’t call me milady!”

He replied, “Surely, Arya, your septa told you about the ‘sword and the sheath’?”

That question brought her back to Winterfell. When she was nine years old, her mother and Septa Mordane both realized that Arya’s favorite activity was wrestling in the dirt with the boys. They took her aside and attempted to instruct her about ‘inappropriate touching’. All that did was make her wonder what ‘appropriate touching’ was and had she experienced it? They also tried to carefully explain the concept of the ‘sword and the sheath’ to her. She wasn’t quite sure what they were getting at, but she had seen animals coupling, and had some idea of the mechanics involved.

With a shock, she realized that Gendry was implying that his ‘sword’ was ready to ‘sheath’ itself in her! She stared at his erection again, and then up into his sparking blue and lustful eyes. “If you think that thing is going to fit inside me, you are as mad as a Targaryen! You could plug the bunghole of a barrel with that!”

Gendry seemed to be enjoying the conversation. He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Don’t worry, milady, it _will_ fit inside you someday, and _you_ will be very pleased that it does fit perfectly.”

Arya was doubtful. She remembered an image she had seen in a book of military history in the Winterfell library. Sansa was always reading books of romance and poetry, but Arya was still convinced back then that she would become a squire, and studied warfare when the maester or the septa weren’t looking. The image was a drawing of a battering ram crashing and splintering the gates of a castle; the foot soldiers nearby eagerly waiting to invade. She shook her head. _There is no way that thing is going anywhere near my ‘sheath’; it would tear me apart!_

Arya was still fascinated by his cock. “Can I touch it?” He nodded, and she grasped it, sliding her small hand up and down along its length. Gendry groaned quietly and his eyes kept closing. Suddenly Arya laughed and said, “Oh look, your cock has a hood!” She focused on his foreskin and started to flick it back and forth over the sensitive head of his cock. Gendry though he was going to die. He stammered, “Arya, spit on your hand before you do anymore touching.” She realized that lubrication was needed and followed his advice before returning to stroking his cock, but with more vigor now, as he covered her hand with his larger one and encouraged her motions. 

In a few moments, Gendry let out a loud moan and Arya noticed that her hand had become very wet. She observed the white fluid curiously and looked into his face, which had turned bright red, and he was breathing heavily. “That’s my seed, milady, and you have now pleasured _me_.” He grabbed a facecloth drying nearby and used it to wipe himself and her hand clean. His breathing slowed down, and his normal color returned, too.

Arya looked at his crotch and laughed. She reached over and started shaking his limp, flaccid, and wrinkled member. “Look! All the power has gone out of your cock! You are useless!”

Gendry looked annoyed and responded, “That is only a temporary condition, and what kind of lady are you, to say such things?!”

Arya smirked, “The bad kind, of course. And I don’t give a fig about what a lady would do.”

He continued, “In any case, I’m tired and ready to sleep now, you should leave.” He rolled away from her and closed his eyes.

Arya grabbed his shoulder, digging in her nails to get his attention, and said, “Oh no, you don’t! You are not going to leave me all tense and frustrated! You can’t go to sleep right now!” She was frowning and her eyes were smoldering. 

Gendry opened his eyes and grinned. “Does milady want me to pleasure her again?”

Arya felt extremely aroused and she could not believe how her body had responded to their activity. Her teats were hard and her loins were on fire and she was rubbing her thighs together as though they were itching. She could not stop blushing and reluctantly replied, “Yes, I want you to do what you did last night.”

As he had done previously, he placed his hand on her smallclothes, pressing down on her center. “Not enough!” she hissed and grabbed his hand, shoving it inside her smallclothes.

He felt the small mound at the juncture between her legs. It was covered with soft curls. His hand dipped lower and found her slit, it was sloppy wet and almost burning hot to the touch. He marveled as his fingers explored the soft intricate folds inside her slit as she moaned and writhed under him. He slid one finger inside her narrow channel and she drew in her breath and groaned. His finger felt like it was being sucked inside of her. He slowly started moving his finger in and out. Frantically, Arya reached down, yanked off her smallclothes and spread her legs wider, panting, “Yes, yes, that’s what I want!” and arching her hips into his hand. 

Gendry’s cock was hard and throbbing again, and it took all his will power not to replace his hand with it. The urge to fuck her was almost overwhelming, but he managed to keep control of his mind by focusing on her groans of desire. As he stroked her center, his thumb found a little nub in the upper part of her slit and he started rubbing it with a circular motion. This action brought an instant response from Arya, as she placed her hand over his and almost shouted, “Yes!! There!! Don’t stop!!” Gendry could sense her increased agitation as her hips began to pound his hand furiously and she became even wetter. His left hand slid beneath her undershirt and he began to squeeze her right breast and pinch her teat. He leaned over and started to gently kiss and bite her throat and neck, leading to a passionate kiss on the lips, which she returned frantically, moaning and tangling their tongues, and grasping his hair with her other hand. All of a sudden her hips spasmed and she let out a long groan, stretching out her legs and arms, and then she slowly stopped moving and lay back with a sigh, all the while panting intensely.

Gendry realized that he had come too, and watched her as he carefully removed his hand from her sex. When her breathing returned to normal, she wore the biggest smile he had ever glimpsed on her face, which was shining, and her eyes were glowing. 

When her breathing returned to normal, she japed, but with a serious face, “Ser Gendry, as my sworn shield, I will require this service from you every evening.”

Gendry bowed his head and repeated what he thought was the most appropriate response, “As my lady commands.” He cleaned them both again with the damp cloths, and they soon fell asleep in each other’s arms, totally satiated and exhausted.

When Gendry awoke, he sensed it was near dawn. A sleeping Arya was burrowing tightly into his chest. He was still naked, and she was only wearing her undershirt. Looking past the shirt, he could see the exposed curves of her glorious arse and her smooth legs beyond. _What a sight!_ He marveled, _I could enjoy this view forever!_ He sighed, realizing that he should wake her and send her back to her own furs before they were caught together and given another lecture. 

Gendry gently shook her shoulder and kissed her unruly hair. “Arya, we have to get up. You have to get back to your alcove before someone notices that you are missing. Besides, we have a busy day ahead of us.”

She stretched and sighed, “All right, all right, not that I really want to move. You make a fine pillow.” As she turned to get off him, he caught a quick glimpse of soft brown curls before they were hidden by her undershirt, and he was instantly aroused.

Arya noticed this and rolled her eyes, “Looks like you are ready to _perform_ again. Do I get to see another show?”

Gendry blushed, but managed to grin in response, “Not today. No time for that.”

Rubbing sleep from their eyes, they got dressed and discussed the preparations for departure. Possessions needed to be organized and packed, weapons collected, horses saddled, and the hardest part, saying their farewells. Lord Beric, Thoros, Harwin, and several of the Brothers would accompany them, but they had made new friends in the Hollow Hill during their first peaceful interlude since leaving King’s Landing, and leaving would be sad. Still, Arya was impatient to see her family, and was eager to depart. 

She kissed him on the cheek, and made to leave, “I’ll see you at breakfast. Not that I care, but we must keep up some pretense of modesty.”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their journey to The Twins starts in the next chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lovers have some jealousy issues.

Arya rode away from the Hollow Hill, reflecting over the few months that she and Gendry had passed there. Those months comprised the most peaceful time they had enjoyed in two years. _No wonder I was reluctant to leave_. Also, as her intimacy with Gendry had developed, she had been too exhausted and blissful to recite her prayer. She frowned to herself, _I must remember that I have a task to complete, and I will avenge the evil done to my family. I must remember that I am a wolf! I will not turn into a lovesick maid!_

As the Brotherhood set off for the Twins, Lord Beric only brought along thirty men, desiring to avoid any major conflicts with the Lannisters. He motioned for Arya to ride next to him, as he described the route and his plans to her. For her part, Arya was hoping to convince Lord Beric to join her brother’s cause.

Arya noticed that they were riding north, and not east in the direction of the Kingsroad. She pulled the map that she had stolen at Harrenhal from her tunic and studied it. _I suppose that the Lannisters control the land to the east, and it would be too dangerous for our small band to travel that way. Mayhaps we are going to cross the Red Fork at the ferry and ride north directly to the bridge over the Blue Fork at Fairmarket._

She asked, “Lord Beric, are we going to Fairmarket?”

“Yes,” he replied, “That would be the safest path to the Twins.”

“I agree, and when you meet my brother, I hope he can persuade you to join his army.”

Beric gave her a small smile, “Nay, my lady, Robb Stark may be a good man, but the Brotherhood Without Banners has other obligations. We will return to the Hollow Hill.”

Gendry and Anguy rode behind them, transfixed by the languid, rolling motion of Arya’s round arse in her saddle. Anguy broke the silence first. He suddenly groaned deeply and sighed, “I dreamt of the little lady mounting me as she straddles her horse. Her hands are on my chest for stability, and my hands are on her hips to help her slide up and down. Her teats are bouncing, and her head is tilted back and her eyes are closed, and she is making those sounds I heard every night from the alcove you shared with her. You know, that moaning made me crazy!”

Gendry leaned over and punched him hard on the shoulder. “Oye! That’s my dream, and I’ll not share it with you! Put those thoughts out of your mind!”

“Seven hells!” Anguy shouted in surprised. But as he rubbed his throbbing shoulder, he smirked, “You can’t tell me what to think. I’ll dream about the she-wolf whenever I want!”

Gendry growled dangerously at him. “Just don’t attempt to live out your fantasy, or I’ll break your neck!”

Edric Dayne, who was riding directly behind them, also chastised Anguy, “She is a lady and a princess, and you should not speak of her as though she were a trollop!”

Anguy looked over his shoulder and smirked at him, too. “Oh, I am sure that you are most offended, Lord Dayne, especially since you have been staring at the she-wolf’s arse, same as we were.”

Edric sputtered in response, but did not correct the archer.

\--------------------------

As they travel through the Riverlands, Arya saw the results of the Mountain’s destruction: Scorched farmhouses and villages, burnt and trampled fields and crops, their produce unharvested and ruined. Rotting corpses of livestock, also representing wasted food, left by the Mountain’s men to instill fear and despair in the smallfolk. Occasionally, they would find the hanging bodies of farmers and villagers, obviously tortured for what little information they could provide. Arya cursed under her breath and muttered softly, “Lannisters!” 

Lord Beric was watching her, and stated, “Lady Arya, some of the atrocities we have seen were committed by your brother’s bannermen. I’m afraid that during wartime, very few soldiers are innocent of evil behavior to civilians.”

Arya was dismayed, thinking about the tortured smallfolk, and thought, _If they were my soldiers, I would not allow this_. She frowned at Lord Beric and told him, “My father would never tolerate mistreatment of the smallfolk.”

Lord Beric sighed and responded, “My lady, there was no man in Westeros more honorable than your father, yet I believe that if you asked him frankly, even he would have to admit to committing violence against innocents during Robert’s Rebellion. Wars are not always fought in forests and fields. Sometimes battles occur in towns and villages, and the inhabitants find themselves trapped between two armies. Cruel soldiers may kill them just because they are obstacles, and good men may put them in harm’s way accidentally during the fighting.” 

Arya pulled up the reins to stop her horse, and shouted at Lord Beric, “No! I don’t believe it! Father would never hurt innocent people! I won’t listen to this anymore!” She prodded her horse roughly with her heels, and galloped ahead of the other riders, too angry to talk. She needed to be alone. Arya bit her lip and pondered, _I can’t believe Father would do such things!_ She had profound respect and love for her father, and could not contemplate his participation in any evil. 

Harwin followed Arya after she rode off in anger, and when he caught up with her, he told her, “There was no nobler man than your father and no one I respected more, but every great commander knows that some battle must be lost and strategic sacrifices made if the war is to be won. Without your father’s help and sacrifice Robert Baratheon would not have won the last war.”

They trotted on in silence while Arya thought about all that she didn’t know and perhaps did not want to know about her father.

Harwin continued, “You know, sometimes men have difficult choices to make . . . promises to keep, even if they know others will be hurt in the keeping of them.”

Arya had no idea what Harwin meant by that and scowled at him, annoyed by his speaking in riddles. The only thing stopping her kicking her heels to her horse again was respect for the son of Hullen, her father’s master of horse.

To her surprise, Harwin laughed, but it wasn’t a humorous laugh, but rather a sad, hollow laugh. She hadn’t thought a laugh could have sounded rueful before, but Harwin’s did. 

“You know you’re the only one of Ned’s children who looks like Jon.”

Harwin seemed to be expecting a reply, so Arya nodded, unhappy to be reminded of Jon and of another loved one lost. She gritted her teeth. Jon was not lost to her forever. She _would_ see him again. They were travelling to Rob and then she would go to the Wall to find Jon. Gendry could come too and if Rob didn’t like, well, she would go anyway. 

“And my father told me that you look just like your Aunt Lyanna”.

Harwin looked at her strangely, as if he was expecting her to say something to that.

“So I’ve heard,” Arya muttered eventually, if only to break the awkward silence.

They rode on, neither one having anything more to say to the other until Harwin muttered under his breath, cursing “damn promises,” or at least that’s what Arya thought he said. 

When Harwin suddenly tugged the reins and wheeled his horse around, Arya was relieved to see him go. Her father was dead and there was nothing she could do about that. But she didn’t have to listen to Thoros and Harwin sully her father’s name and she vowed she wouldn’t again. After all, she had known her father better than either of them.

\----------------------------------

The small band rode all day, and as nightfall approached, made a camp in a small clearing for the night. Wood was gathered, and Thoros lit a fire to cook the hares that Anguy and the other archers had shot. As they were arranging the sleeping furs, Gendry looked over at Arya, and saw that she had furtively put up a hand, meaning “do not approach” and jerked her head toward the trees. She disappeared into the forest and he waited a few minutes before he followed her. He could not see well in the growing twilight, but did not walk very far before Arya appeared suddenly and silently from behind a tree and grabbed his tunic. She stood on his boots and pressed herself against him, reaching up to give him a deep, intense kiss. Then she pulled away and said almost in a whisper, “The men are watching my every move. We should not give them any reason to lecture us about our behavior. Mayhaps we will find some privacy soon, but definitely not tonight. Sleep close to me as befits a sworn shield, but not so close as to raise eyebrows.”

Gendry’s mouth was resting on the top of her head. He sighed and mumbled into her hair, “Yes, milady, I suppose you have the right of it.”

She kissed him softly and whispered, “Stupid bull, don’t call me milady!”

\--------------------------

When they eventually came to the River Road, they crossed it cautiously, making sure that there were no soldiers or prying eyes nearby. Soon they came to the ferry that would take the party across the Red Fork, and Lord Beric negotiated the cost of their passage. He was confident that King Robb would reward them well for Arya’s return, and the gift would more than cover the expense of delivering her to The Twins. Since Arya was still wearing the garb and weapons of a lad, none of the boatmen were any the wiser they had a princess in their midst. 

After crossing the Red Fork, Arya observed that there was less devastation. Apparently the war had bypassed the land between the Red and Blue Forks. _I suppose that the Mountain and the other Lannister soldiers have not come this far,_ she thought.

By the time they reached the town of Fairmarket, on the western bank of the Blue Fork, the travelers had been riding for more than a fortnight. Aside from hasty evening kisses and some furtive groping, Gendry and Arya had had no opportunity for any real intimacy, and they tried not to give each other lustful glances. Anguy seemed to be aware of their vexation, and grinned wickedly whenever he could catch an eye. As the days passed, Arya felt that familiar yearning deep in her belly and the subsequent frustration. One night she touched herself between her legs experimentally, but it was not the same as when Gendry fondled her. 

_I have become so accustomed to his caresses_ , Arya thought, and wondered, _Will it always be that way?_ She remembered the kitchen girl with whom she shared a room in Harrenhal. Pretty Pia seemed to have a man in her bed every night, and the giggling Arya heard indicated that she enjoyed fucking. _If I couple with Gendry, will it be as enjoyable?_ she wondered. So far, all their interactions seem to indicate it would, and she became aroused whenever she thought about what they could do together.

Each day, Beric usually called a halt to make camp about two hours before sunset. Arya used the remaining daylight to continue Gendry’s swordsmanship training, with occasional suggestions from Thoros. She also resumed her archery lessons with Anguy, who would stand as close to her as possible, touching her arms and back often, commenting on her posture. At first she stiffened when he touched her back. Save for Gendry, Arya did not like to be touched. However, as her accuracy became better, she did not rebuff his corrections, but instead concentrated on improving her skill with the bow. She didn’t even notice that he was practically breathing on her neck.

_Mayhaps he touches her too often_ , Gendry observed with a scowl and narrowed eyes, _I wager he would touch her arse if he could!_ Arya did not seem to encourage Anguy’s familiarity, but instead seemed distracted by the lesson. Gendry also noticed that she favored Anguy with a toothy smile when he japed with her. _I wonder how innocent she really is?_ Gendry mused. But the Arya he knew was not a flirt or a cock tease. If anything, she detested women who were. She even associated coquetry with acceptable ladylike behavior, which explained why she always said, “Don’t call me milady.” _No, she really is innocent. Mayhaps she doesn’t realize that all Anguy wants is to fuck her. I’m going to talk to her about this! But first I’ll have a talk with Anguy and try not to knock his fool head off!_ he fumed.

Gendry continued to watch Anguy, and when he went into the woods to take a piss, Gendry followed him, moving as quickly and quietly as he could. He surprised Anguy by grabbing his shoulders and slamming his back against a tree. Anguy was older, but Gendry had the advantage of size and strength. His eyes were flashing with anger and his grip was painful as he growled, “If you touch Arya again, I’ll break your hands and you won’t be so clever with a bow anymore.” The archer did not lack in confidence, and smiled, “Don’t be selfish, Bull, the she-wolf is a bold girl and seems to favor me too. Surely we can share her.” Those were the wrong words to say to Gendry. He thumped Anguy against the tree again and punched him hard in the stomach. As Anguy was doubled over, gasping for breath, Gendry snarled, “Remember, next time I’ll break your hands,” and stomped away. _That should do it, he thought, now I have to talk to Arya. That will be more difficult. She is a stubborn one!_

Daylight was failing when Gendry found Arya arranging her sleeping furs. She looked up at him and smiled. “Is it time for a non-brotherly kiss?” she asked. 

He frowned and blurted out, “I don’t like the way the archer touches you! He is too familiar with you, and you smile back at him, which just encourages him!”

Now it was Arya’s turn to frown. She hissed at him, “I don’t think of him like that! He is only helping me with my archery! Don’t tell me what to do!”

Gendry was exasperated, and almost shouted, “He wants to fuck you! I don’t want him near you and I told him so!” He realized too late the implication that Arya needed protection. _She won’t like hearing that,_ he thought.

Arya looked back defiantly and protested, “Well, I don’t want to fuck him, and I can take care of myself! I’m not some helpless maid! In fact, I don’t even want to kiss you tonight! Good night!” She rolled herself in the furs and turned her back to him with a huff.

\--------------------------

Fairmarket had a sizable inn, and the travelers welcomed the opportunity for real meals and beds after several weeks in the countryside. Arya noticed that the inn was similar to the Peach, as there were many pretty serving girls. Also, as at the Peach, the wenches immediately started flirting with Gendry, attracted by his height, youthfulness, and strong bare arms. The day had been warm, and Gendry had earlier removed his surcoat. Arya was annoyed and realized that she was jealous. She wondered, _He is bare under his jerkin, does he do that on purpose?_ However, Gendry appeared to be embarrassed by the uninvited attention and looked hesitant, unconsciously moving closer to Arya. _Serves him right,_ she thought and smiled smugly to herself. Neither had apologized for the fight they had a few nights ago, and there was still some tension between them. 

Although Arya was as tall as many of the girls at the inn, she was slender, and appeared boyish compared to them, especially with her hair cut so short . Most were older than Arya, and quite curvaceous in revealing blouses and tight corsets. One observant wench commented to the others, “This delicious lad seems to prefer that skinny boy to us. But wait, _he_ is really a _girl_ dressed as a boy!” The wench turned her attention back to Gendry. “Surely you can’t possibly favor _her_ when you can have one of us!” she said while practically shoving her bosom into his face. Another girl sneered at Arya, “You might as well dress like a boy, because you certainly don’t look like a girl!” 

Arya did not respond. She bit her lip and is momentarily looked intimidated, reliving the memory of Sansa and Jeyne Poole taunting her: “Arya horseface, no one will want to marry _you!_ ” Older girls had often tried to make her feel inferior.

Arya had described to Gendry how her sister had mercilessly teased her, and as the wenches ridiculed her, he realized that he was seeing the face of that apprehensive child from Arya’s past. Gendry instinctively became protective, and he reached forward and placed his arms around Arya, saying defiantly, “She may not be as buxom as you wenches, but she is all the woman that _I_ need.” 

Arya gathered herself, thinking, _I don’t need his pity!_ She pulled away from Gendry, approached the loudest wench, put her hand on the hilt of her knife, looked her right in the eyes and scowled, “Words are wind. I’m tired of this nonsense. I wager I could knock you on your arse! Want to try me?” 

The girl glanced at Arya’s belligerent face and gleaming blades and hissed, raising her nails like claws, “How dare you, you camp follower! I’ll scratch your eyes out!” But the first wench to accost Arya, put her hand on her friend’s shoulder and said, “Lanna, the bitch is crazy and she has a knife! You don’t want any scars on your face.”

Lanna continued to glare menacingly at Arya, but allowed herself to be pulled back. “Fine, she can have the thickheaded ox if she wants.” She looked up at Gendry, and spit out, “He’s probably got a small cock, anyway. I’ll go find a _real_ man!” and stomped off to tables where the rest of the Brotherhood were drinking.

After the girls left, Gendry looked down at her, and grinned, “Uh, milady, I really don’t need your protection.”

Now she scowled up at him, “Humph, you probably _do_ need my protection here. All men think with their cocks, and cocks are stupid!”

Arya could see why wenches were always attracted to him: Gendry stood out in a crowd – he was a tall young man with broad shoulders and strong arms (and he was often sleeveless). With his thick black hair, flashing blue eyes, and square jaw, he was impressive. Yet he did not appear vain, but instead often had a shy, friendly look on his face, and possessed an air of vulnerability as he often pushed an unruly curl off his forehead. 

Arya remembered hearing that King Robert had been an exceptionally handsome man when he was younger, and took advantage of this fact by bedding almost every woman that he met. Obviously, Gendry’s mother had been one of those women smitten by the young Robert. She reflected, _Gendry must look exactly like his father when he was the same age. No wonder those girls come to him like flies to honey._

She smiled as she remembered that he had just professed to those same wenches that she was the only one he wanted. _And he called me a woman! Mayhaps I’m ready to forgive him._

While they ate supper, Lord Beric made their sleeping arrangements. The men would share several dormitory rooms, and Arya would have a small room to herself. He told her, “As a lady and a maiden, you should have some privacy.” He looked at her sharply when he declared 'maiden'.

When she finished eating, Arya decided to find her room and take the opportunity to clean herself up, but before she left, she whispered to Gendry, “Find me when you can get away.”

Gendry, looked surprised at first, expecting her to be still angry with him. When he saw that her eyes were shining with anticipation, he smiled back at her and nodded.

_____________________________________________

As the evening wore on, Gendry observed the men drinking steadily, some of them with hands down the bodices and up the skirts of the wenches on their laps. Tom Sevenstrings was playing his harp to entertain an attentive young girl. Beric, Thoros, and Ned Dayne were at a corner table talking with serious expressions, and Thoros seemed to have something urgent to tell them. Gendry figured it was a good time to make an undetected exit.

On his way to the stairs, Gendry saw Anguy chatting up a petite, dark-haired serving girl, and when he became aware that Gendry was looking at him, he gave Gendry a lascivious grin, before returning his attention to the girl, his hand on her waist. _I’m going to hit him later,_ Gendry thought, _He’s still thinking about Arya!_

Arya’s room wasn’t hard to find; it was the smallest one on the second floor. Gendry slipped in silently and locked the door. He turned around and saw Arya under the covers of a featherbed, looking at him intently. “You are wearing too much clothing,” she said huskily.

Gendry quickly stripped down to his breeches. She wasn’t satisfied. “Take your breeches off but leave your smallclothes on.” He complied, and as he approached the bed she lifted the blanket, revealing that she was only wearing a thin undershirt and smallclothes. He saw that she had removed her bindings, and her teats were hard and pointy, pushing up under the shirt. He instantly became tumescent.

After several weeks without much intimacy, Gendry was so aroused that it took all his willpower not to tear off all their remaining clothing. He could see that Arya’s large grey eyes were lustful also. He climbed in next to her, and immediately drew her into a deep kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth instantly. Arya was just as eager and responded with enthusiasm, pressing her body against him, rubbing her breasts against his bare chest. Kissing and gasping, he slid his hands along her stomach and under the shirt until he was cupping and squeezing her breasts, as she began to writhe and moan. Breaking the kiss, he moved his mouth down to her throat, almost having to curl up because she was so much smaller, and then started biting her teats through the rough cloth of her undershirt. _Gods, this is heavenly!_ he thought as he continued to fondle the only girl in the world that mattered to him.

_Gods, this is heavenly!_ Arya thought, as Gendry’s biting lips caused a flood of wetness inside her smallclothes, and her lower belly to feel as if it was on fire. She coaxed him to lie on top of her, and when he did so, she felt his rock-hard cock pressing insistently against her crotch. She was kissing the top of his head and her hands were pulling him tightly as he continued to lavish attention to her breasts with hands and mouth. Arya’s nails were digging into his shoulders and beginning to draw blood. He stopped for a moment and leaned back, panting heavily, to gently raise her upper body and yank off the undershirt. Then he attacked her breasts again now that no clothing interfered with his desire. She pulled him closer again, and started to grind her private area against his smallclothes, pumping and gyrating, feeling the heat and tension increasing to an almost unbearable level. Gendry pressed back, sliding back and forth against her, as they both moaned and groaned uncontrollably. Luckily, the main hall below was filled with revelry, or someone would surely have heard them.

Gendry began to push harder and faster, desperate for release, and Arya responded by wrapping her legs around his waist, squeezing him and increasing the contact. Like Gendry’s, her body was vibrating and thrashing in a frenzy beyond her control, and her incoherent moans became recognizable as she began to call out his name. “Ooooh, Gendry! Gendry! Don’t stop! It feels so good!” She bit down on his shoulder to stifle her cries.

Gendry was also becoming delirious as he continued to pound against her, and heard himself saying in a loud whisper, now holding her tightly, and nibbling on her ear, “You are so beautiful, so beautiful. You are _mine!_ ” Then he felt the pain of her bite and it was all over. His release came with an explosion in his smallclothes, and he was left limp and wet, panting heavily, totally exhausted.

Suddenly, Arya thought she was melting into a puddle. Her vision blurred and she went blind for a moment, an additional surge of heat soaked her thighs, her limbs became weak, and even her toes felt as if they had curled up. She slowly allowed her legs to fall away from Gendry’s waist, and her arms fell to her sides, as she sighed deeply. She realized that she was still sprawled indecently under Gendry, but she didn’t care, she was far too relaxed to complain. After a few minutes of quiet, she thought, _He fell asleep on top of me_! and said in a muffled voice, “Off, stupid bull! You’re crushing me!”

Gendry stirred and groaned, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to squash you. I was too tired to move right away.” He slid off of her and lay by her side, cupping her face in his hand and smiling. “Was it as good for you as it was for me, milady?” 

Arya could not help but smile, too. “That was amazing! Although having to wait a fortnight was far too long!”

Gendry was fingering the wound on his shoulder and winced. “You really put a mark on me, you know.”

Arya scowled and retorted, “Mayhaps I should have bit your arm so those stupid wenches with their saggy teats will know that you are _mine!_ ”

Gendry looked at her shrewdly, “Mayhaps I should have marked your neck so that Anguy and Ned would know that _you_ are mine!” 

Arya paused and then laughed, “Gods, would we really get a lecture from Lord Beric if we marked each other. He would put a guard on us all the way to the Twins!”

Gendry laughed too, and with that exchange, the tension between them dissolved. As the revelry continued below, Gendry kissed her gently on the forehead and quietly slipped out of her room and into a bed in the dormitory before they were discovered being improper again.

The next morning the travelers continued their journey, traveling northward along the western bank of the Blue Fork. The next destination was Oldstones, the ruins of an ancient castle. Thoros had been looking into his priestly flames for guidance from the Red God, and he was troubled by confusing visions of a castle, a bridge, and scenes of fighting. He could not identify the castle or the Houses of the fighters, and even more disturbing, women were also victims in the blurry shapes he saw in the flames. Oldstones was a sacred place, and Thoros expected that his visions would become clearer there. He grumbled to Lord Beric, “All I see in the flames is fire and blood, and somehow I feel that it involves the Twins.”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, the Red Wedding is part of the next chapter.
> 
> The description of Gendry here is almost identical to that of Superman in the original comic books. Coincidence or not?
> 
> Thanks go to Lady3jane for helping me achieve continuity in this chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> Readers, if you like the theme of this story, I have a few recommendations for you.
> 
> If you have not read “No Featherbed for Me” by lit_chick08, I urge you to drop everything and read it right now! “NFfM” is to Gendrya as “Le Morte d’Arthur” by Malory is to the King Arthur legend. Like “Romeo and Juliet”, Gendrya is the epic tale of “star-crossed lovers”, and “NFfM” is the most heartbreaking version. You will need a box of tissues. 
> 
> My favorite tale of Gendrya is without a doubt, “The Reluctant Bride” by Lady3jane. “TRB” has everything – fast-paced action, epic adventures, direwolves, dragons, humor, fluffy romance, and hot sex. In the right hands, it could be a Hollywood movie better than “The Lord of the Rings”. I guarantee you will love it.
> 
> I also recommend “A Thousand Leagues” by AryaGEN. This story follows the HBO depiction of the adventures of Gendry and Arya along the Kingsroad and in Harrenhal. In the midst of all the horror, there is real sweetness in their growing relationship. I love the atmosphere of “ATL”.
> 
> But for the most unapologetically fluffy romantic version of a Gendrya possible future relationship, “His M’lady” by 13letters is the best. If you are a fool for sentimental love stories, “HMl” was written for you. Read it and then go watch Amy Adams in “Enchanted” again.


End file.
